Written on 3 January 2019
Hey. So, I hope this is a good time? It's just, I heard this story. I guess it's a cautionary tale, of sorts. A sort of 21st century parable.
Wait, that's giving it too much gravitas. Okay, it's just another play on the age-old theme of “If you behave like a dick, you might have some sort of comeuppance. So, basically every fairy tale ever told.
Anyway, there is a man I know. He lived in the village I grew up in. When I was young, he would commute into the city. He would deliberately run over footballs, and sneer at parents at the local pub.
He was, and remained, the kind of person who demands to see the manager. The kind of person who says things like “It's an absolute disgrace” about happenings that were, at best, mildly inconvenient.
He would write letters to editors about anything he didn't like. He had a weekly correspondence with the BBC about all the things he thought his license fee shouldn't be spent on. “30% of this country hate football, yet every 4 years I'm supposed to endure the World Cup. Worst of all, I'm paying for it! It's a disgrace!” You get the gist.
His first wife left him. He left his second wife, though it was common knowledge she was boffing half the tennis team when he would stay up in the city. His third wife lasted just 37 days. He would tell anyone who listened at the local pub about how the worst thing that happened to society was letting women in the workplace.
He overused exclamation marks! Underused basic English. Had more money than most, but could only focus on those few who had more. He didn't swear, as he thought it immoral, whilst openly chastising those less fortunate for being “spongers” and refugees for “Not assimilating!”
He retired last year, and somehow became more highly strung. He would take photos of his neighbours if he perceived them to be doing something wrong. He kicked out at dogs who came to say hello. He complained that the local vicar was “too young” and that the library should be closed as “I only ever see 10 year olds go in there. I'm paying for that!”
He was a difficult man.
And just last week he was run over by his fourth wife. He died in hospital a week later.
The reason I'm telling you this is because that awful man's legacy was that he enjoyed nothing. He was charmless, humourless, entitled and judgemental, and it was clear he only lived to make those around him suffer.
He never had any kids, or any friends, his family hated him and his wife was now in jail. It was left to his third wife to pick what message went on his prepaid headstone. She, at least, had a sense of humour.
Here lies a nondescript angry man
He enjoyed nothing, then he died
Brutal. So, yeah. Don't be angry. I know it's easier said than done, but a sense of perspective can go a long way in this world. That's what I took away from the story anyway.
Love beats hate.